As We Go Along
by animebishieluver
Summary: A new year in Hogwarts, a new Professor, but not for DADA? Who is she, and what is she at Hogwarts for? And what is she doing with that DOLL! OC. Trust me, it's good! Playing FFX not necessary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I'm back! All characters you don't recognize are mine, and all those you do aren't. I'm pretty sure you can read this if you haven't played Final Fantasy X, but do message me if you have any questions.

**Disclaimer:** Alright, I DO NOT own, or live in some fantasy world where I think I own, make money off of, or in any way infringe on the rights and property of J.K. Rowling of Square Soft Inc., the Harry Potter series, or the Final Fantasy game(s) I may reference in this fanfiction. So don't sue me, please.

**Chapter 1:**

The Spectral Keeper roared in rage, the shock of Dian's hit making the red creature flinch towards me. I let loose another Blizzaga, panting and waving my staff in a smooth arc. Tired or not, sloppy spell casting would get us killed.

Dian grinned at me, charging up another Quick Hit, as the Keeper swung a claw at me in retaliation. I ducked to another glymph, grimacing when the light half blinded me. I now stood opposite my guardian, with the Keeper facing Dian.

The battle had been going on for some ten minutes now, though it seemed both longer and shorter to me. The Keeper seemed to be tiring at last, and I was sure a few more hits would do it. The Keeper was already fading, pyreflies streaming out of a few spots in its thick, armored skin. I took a deep breath, and wondered if I had enough power left in me for a Holy spell to finish the damn thing off. I decided not to risk it. The beast wasn't the only one tiring, and Dian couldn't finish this fight alone.

With another roar, the Keeper flapped its leathery wings to raise itself up higher, spreading its claws wide. I watched in horror as it swung both at Dian. _Move damn it! Move!_

Dian looked up in time to see it coming, eyes widening. He reached down to move to another glymph, a split second too late. The Keeper's claws connected with a sickening crunch, piercing him in both sides.

I think I screamed then. I'm not sure now. I do know that a Holy spell of epic proportion ripped out of me, reducing the Keeper to a burst of pyreflies before Dian hit the ground. I rushed around the pit where the Keeper had been, the blue void where we had fought becoming Zanarkand Temple again. I already had a Curaga spell on my lips, but even then I knew it was too late.

I reached him, crying. He smiled at me, less energy in it than the battle-ready one he had given me earlier. My hand shook as I gently moved a lock of black hair out of his green, green eyes.

"I will defeat Sin. I _will,_" I said. His smile turned a little crooked.

"I know," he managed, breath rasping in his throat. Then he went still.

I gently closed my brother's eyes, standing to my feet. The only thing left for me to do for him was to make sure he didn't become one of the fiends that haunted this place. My staff twirled, bangles spread around the intricate engraving. His pyrefly lifted from his chest, circling me once as it rose, and brushed insubstantially against me cheek where another tear had slipped down. I had done all I could for Dian. Now I would do all I could for Spira.

I walked steadily to the lift, and as I rode down, I took a last glance at Dian. After I had received the final summoning, I would return for his body. Then, I would defeat Sin.

In the chamber below, the shade of a priest stood over a broken faith. This could not be the final summoning, nor was he Yunalesca. He watched me walk by in silence, and I passed through a shining blue entrance into a large hall with pyreflies swirling through the air. Lady Yunalesca stood at the top of the stairs on the far end of the ancient room.

"You cannot pass into here, my child," she said. I drew myself into a stronger stance, meeting her eyes dead on.

"I have completed my journey. I have obtained every aeon and passed every test laid before me. It is now my right to obtain the final aeon and defeat Sin," I replied, chin up.

"This is true enough. But the final aeon is not an aeon you may receive by any amount of prayer. You must have a bond with someone, someone who will become the final aeon so that the light of that bond can outshine Sin in its brilliance. So Sin is defeated, and hope returns to Spira. Without someone beside you, you cannot receive the final aeon," Yunalesca continued gently.

I shook my head, "No! All that time, all that work, Dian's death, all for nothing?"

"I am sorry, my child, but so it must be. I have no aeon to give you."

"I must do something! I came all this way, willing to die, willing to sacrifice myself for the people of Spira, even knowing that it would someday return, that cannot be for nothing!"

"Such a true desire is never for nothing," she paused, giving me a considering look, "You have no one now, do you, child?"

I watched her, carefully, wondering, "No. My parents were killed by Sin long ago. When they died, Dian took me to Bevelle. I grew up there, and Dian and I had only each other."

"Hmm. What is your name?"

"Palme," I replied, softly.

"Palme. I can yet allow you to help people, though not the people of Spira. There is nothing you could for them, save perhaps return to a temple and work as a priestess. There you would only be able to watch as you trained young summoners do what you so wanted to, watching as every one you sent out died in the battles of Spira. Such would be a waste of your abilities, and of one as true of heart as yourself."

"What… could I do then?" I asked carefully.

Yunalesca considered me for a moment longer, and then seemingly came to a decision, "I have it within my power to transport you to a place where your powers could be used to battle another evil, one every bit as terrible as Sin. Your true desire is to protect people, is it not? Even if they are not of Spira?"

I did not hesitate, "Yes. I protect all people, all races, and all the inhabitant of the world."

She seemed to accept my answer, "Then I offer you a choice. You may return to your people, and live as a priestess, or you may go to this new world I spoke of. There your powers would not be wasted. You could even expand them past the black and white mage craft you now have. The people there are under siege by a dark sorcerer and his followers. You could help them, protect them, and accept their people as your own."

"But…?"

"But once there, you would be beyond my power. You could never return to Spira."

I swallowed. Never? Never see Bevelle again, never walk through Spira again? Live all my life away from it? I thought for a moment. Never have to face the pitying looks that accompany failed summoners. Never have to see all the places that would remind me of Dian again. No living alone in the world, as a closed of priestess in some temple. Really my decision was easy.

"I accept. But what of Dian? And my aeons?" I worried my lip.

Yunalesca gave me a gentle look, "I will care for Dian. He will be buried on the outlook facing Zanarkand. So have I always cared for those who reached Zanarkand and were slain. Your aeons will still answer your call. They are bound to you, and that bond will reach through the void."

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

"You are welcome. I will transport you shortly. But before you go, I wish to give you some things. Will you receive them?"

"Of course."

"Then here," several objects flew towards me from the temple proper. A moogle, a cactuar doll, and a pendent that Dian had worn, and I had not thought to take, "You will have need of these, as well as your staff. And the dead should not be forgotten."

I smoothed my thumb over the familiar wood. It was simple really, just a circle of wood with our name and those of our parents around the edges, with the symbol of Yevon in the center. I slipped the leather thong attached to it over my hair sticks and flipped my long brown braids over it, tucking the pendant into the breast of my pale blue top. I nodded my thanks.

Making sure the dolls were in one arm and my staff firmly in the other hand, Yunalesca nodded her silver head in return. She raised her arms high and wide, opening herself to her power. The pyreflies in the room rushed to her, swirling around her and then me, faster and faster until the hall blazed with the light of it. Then all went black.

When I woke, I was laying on my side, sunlight streaming through a large open window and into my face. I had dreamed as I passed through the void. Yunalesca had left me with one last message.

_This is as far as I can take you. You will wake in your new world. The only thing I can tell you is that they give two names there. If I may, I would give that name. I name you Palme Diandar, or of Dian, for if you were not of your brother, you were surely of his heart. Peace be with you, my child._

I sat up carefully, having an awful headache. _Palme Diandar. How strange. _I looked around and my eyes fell on an old man with a long white beard and half moon spectacles. I tilted my head a bit when I saw he was wearing long, heavy, blue robes with silver stars scattered across them. _Ooh, he would roast in Spira. Even the priests wear lighter robes than that. How cold is this place?_

"It's good to see you awake. Lady Yunalesca did not say you'd be asleep for two days," his eyes twinkled merrily, "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are most welcome here, Palme Diandar."

**TBC**

**A/N: **Okay, so end of chapter one! Woot! Worry not my dear, I already have more written, and although this is exam week, it is followed by a long Christmas break, so you should see more of this soon.

One little note, yes, I totally made up Professor Sprout's first name. It's not in the books as far as I can tell, and it wasn't on a fairly comprehensive site I use for on the spot references. So, since I couldn't find it, Silvia she shall be.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter two! But no reviews! *pout!* Please! I'm adorable and you're reading this, so you're now obligated to tell me what you think!

**Chapter Two:**

I raised an eyebrow, "I see Yunalesca has filled you in a bit. What else did she tell you?"

"Not much, my dear. Just that you had agreed to come from a world named Spira to help with our fight against Voldemort. Would you care to fill me in a little more?"

"Alright. My name is Palme, as Lady Yunalesca said, and I am a summoner, a black, and white mage. My guardian was killed in the last battle before I received the final aeon, and I was unable to receive it without a guardian. Rather than become a priestess at a temple, Yunalesca allowed me to come to here," I took a shuddering breath.

He nodded, "I see. I'm sorry for your loss. I do appreciate your willingness to help. We will have to find a place for you on Hogwarts grounds. You said you were a mage?"

"Yes. And you said this was a school for witchcraft? How so?"

A very long explanation later, punctuated by questions by me, I was pretty sure I had the basics down, "So I'm in England, in a school for magical teenagers, and this Voldemort character keeps trying to kill non-magical people and magical people not born to magical parents," I snorted, "What a stupid reason to kill people. Anyways, he's trying to kill this Harry Potter fellow the hardest, who goes to this school, and we have to stop him, have I got it?"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"Okay, got it. What now?"

He chuckled, "Well, after Madame Pomfrey lets you out of the hospital wing, we'll start by getting you a room. How old are you, precisely?"

"I'm twenty two."

"Well, too old to be a student, then. We'll have to find some place on the staff for you, but we'll worry about that later," he stood and turned towards a door at the far end of a stone room, which I now realized was long and lined with many beds like the one I now sat on, "Poppy!"

An older woman bustled out of the far room, wielding what I realized was a wand. She was a bit short, rounded, and had a brisk, motherly air about her. I liked her instantly.

"Well, dear, let's see how you're doing," she waved her wand and said something I didn't understand, and a faint glow surrounded me. She nodded her head at me, "You seem to be just fine, though don't go overdoing it just yet. But you're well enough not to have to stay in the hospital wing anymore."

"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said. I swung my legs off the bed and stood, my white shorts having seen better days. I slid into my boots, buckling the clasps that continued up the black leather to my knees. I looked around, my eyes falling on my staff and my dolls briefly before I scooped up my hair sticks. My tight braids fell down my back, and I grabbed a handful, twisting them artfully and pinning them into place. Scooping up my effects, I turned back to Dumbledore, who turned and walked to the door closest to my bed.

When we exited into a dim stone corridor, Dumbledore snapped, and a strange little creature appeared in front of us. It had big floppy ears, bulging yellow eyes, and had some sort of towel wrapped around its grayish body. I snapped my staff forward, ready to cast, when Dumbledore spoke.

"Sorry to startle you, dear. This is Missy. She is a House Elf. House Elves work in many major wizarding buildings, so don't be alarmed. She'll be showing us to an empty room that the elves have prepared for you."

"Missy is sorry to be startling the new mistress. Missy will show you mistress' room."

The school was huge, in a word. The winding stone corridor gave way to a massive pit lined by moving staircases. It was nothing compared to the dangers of a temple, but it was still enough to make a girl nervous, especially when the staircase we were walking down on swung sharply to the left, pointing the top in an entirely new direction. Thankfully it didn't change the corridor it was attached to at the bottom, so we were able to continue on our current route.

While we were walking, Dumbledore was giving me a quick tour. He pointed out the corridor that lead to the Great Hall, which was where the staff and, during the school year, the students took their meals. He explained that the school year ran from September to June, and since it was currently July, the students were home for the summer. We passed a couple of classroom before climbing a spiral staircase that seemed to be within a tower. About halfway up the staircase, Missy stopped in front of a door that legitimately should have led outside, or, at best, a closet, if the windows were anything to go by. The door actually opened to a spacious suite, colored a soothing silver and pale blue. I realized with a small smile that the blue was the same as my top. I walked to the window and looked out. The window gave a breathtaking view out over part of the castle, another tower, and beyond that, a large lake and forest.

Missy bounced on her toes beside me, "Is mistress liking her room? Missy can be finding mistress another one if mistress doesn't like it."

"It's fine, Missy," I said as I settled my dolls onto a large bed with curtains hanging around it, keeping only my staff.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "I realize you may need to settle in, but dinner is in a few minutes, and I promised Poppy that I'd make sure you ate."

"That would be nice, thank you," I said, retaining my grip on my staff and following him out of the room.

"If mistress needs anything, she should be snapping her fingers, and Missy will come."

"Thank you, Missy," I said, as Missy disappeared with a pop of displaced air.

"Shall we?" Dumbledore asked, waving me first. I managed to lead the way back to the giant stair pit and down the correct corridor, then allowing Dumbledore to take the lead. Really, this place wasn't so bad, as long as you could remember which corridor lead which way, and you could see a stairway to get there. _What a laugh!_

Two giant doors swung open before us, revealing the Great Hall. I couldn't help but gape a bit at the ceiling, staring up at the streaks of red that signaled the beginning of sunset. I'd certainly seen stranger and more awe-inspiring sites as a summoner, but I was hard-pressed to think of one as I looked up that night.

My eyes dropped down to the table before us. Only one small table was set up. Well, small when compared to the rest of the hall. I was sure it could sit about thirty people if necessary. Currently, it sat five. A large, dark, hairy man with a friendly mien; an older woman with a tight bun and a sharp face; a plump woman with grey hair and gardening gloves sitting next to her plate; a very tiny, fussy looking man with a central part and spectacles; and a frazzled, eccentric woman with large, thick glasses.

Dumbledore began introducing me to the various professors. I liked Professor Sprout the best. She had my love of growing things. Professor Flitwick struck me as a little too tightly wound, though nice enough for all that, while Professor Trelawny simply made me think of a slightly off fruit vendor that Dian had always made a point of picking up a few things from while we lived in Bevelle. He had said that we might not have a lot, but we should help those who had less. I took a deep breath at the memory and moved on in my assessment.

Professor Hagrid seemed kindly enough, if a bit over eager. It would take me time to get used to him. The only things that big in Spira were fiends. Professor McGonagall was simply brisk, but without the motherly aspect of Madame Pomfrey. She seemed caring enough, but more distant.

Overall, I approved of the lot of them, though we eyed each other's respective choice of wardrobe thoroughly enough. The greeted me in a friendly way, and I returned it. The Headmaster settled into the seat at the head of the table, motioning me into a free chair to his left. The meal appeared in front of us, and I began to cautiously sample the odd mix of foods in front of me as the professors began to throw questions my way. Dumbledore cut them off, laughing a quick, "Let the poor girl eat, we'll hear all about her at the staff meeting tonight!"

After eating as much as I could of the strange food, feeling Dumbledore's eyes on me, until I turned and raised an eyebrow at him, which he only replied with a friendly twinkling and turning back to his own food, I began to think of a few questions of my own.

"Professor Sprout, the Headmaster said you teach, um, Herbology, was it?"

"Yes, dear, I work in the greenhouses on the east side of the castle. Would you like to see sometime?"

"Yes, I would, actually. I love plants, and I haven't had much time to be around them since before I started my summoner's training," I replied.

"Summoner's training, dear?"

"All in good time, Silvia," Dumbledore said mildly.

**A/N: **Yay! End chapter! Review please! Remember, I do this because I love it, but loving reviews always make me feel better about myself and my writing!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Whoot! Chapter three! FYI, I have chapter four and most of chapter five written, but I would appreciate a bit of feedback! Love, AnimeBishieLuver.

**Chapter Three**

Just as he finished speaking, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, and two men strode in. The first appeared to be fuming, pointedly ignoring the one behind him, his black robes swirling around his feet. He was one of the youngest professors I'd seen so far, with shoulder length black hair and his hands stained with something dark. The man behind him appeared to be of similar age, with curly brown hair and soft, open features that were currently twisted into a scowl.

"Ah, Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, we were just about to begin our meeting over dessert," Dumbledore said, standing with his arms outstretched to meet the men. The first, Professor Snape, I realized, snorted and took a seat at the end of the professors to Dumbledore's right, Lupin taking the matching seat to his left. I stood to excuse myself, but Dumbledore laid his hand over mine to stop me.

"No, no, dear, you're the reason I called the meeting. We need you here to fill in necessary bits of information."

I settled carefully back into my seat, looking at the faces around me. They seemed friendly enough, with the notable exceptions of Professor Snape and Professor Lupin, who were still staring each other down over some sort of fight they seemed to have had.

"Now, Miss Diandar, the Lady Yunalesca was not terribly specific about where you're from and what you can do. Perhaps you can give us a bit more than, 'She is here to help fight in the war you must wage. Take care of her, and she will be a powerful ally for you,'" Dumbledore questioned.

I smiled. Lady Yunalesca had seemed cryptic to me as well, "Well, as I have mentioned, I am a summoner, as was Lady Yunalesca in her time. My title is actually Lady Palme, but you may call me Palme. I am also a mage," I began.

"Now, what do those titles entail?" Dumbledore asked.

"A summoner is a person who can call powerful beings called aeons to battle. A black mage is some who can wield elemental magic, and a few other spells, while a white mage has healing and protective spells, for the most part. There is some crossover between the two in the more advanced spells. I am both a black and white mage."

"I see. So this is all used in the middle of battle. So you cannot demonstrate either for us?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Oh no, I can. But I don't exactly want to fire my black spells at you," I snickered a bit at the unintended pun, "And summoning takes a lot of space. We have enough room in here, but unless I called Ixion, you'd be replacing your floor or ceiling."

"Ixion?" it was Professor Flitwick this time.

"Yes. My aeons have names, you know. Valefor, the bird aeon of Besaid; Ifrit, the hell-beast of Kilika; Ixion, the thunderous horse of Djose; Shiva, the ice maiden of Macalania; Bahamut, the dragon of my home town, Bevelle; Yojimbo, the warrior of a stolen fayth; the Magus Sisters, of Remien Temple; and Anima, who bears great suffering in chains. With the exception of Ixion, they all come straight from the sky or the ground when I call them."

"Might we see Ixion, then, and perhaps we can have the House Elves bring a dummy so you can show us your mage abilities?" Dumbledore asked.

"No need to bother the House Elves, Headmaster. I can tranfigure a chair," McGonagall said pertly.

"Alright, Minerva, I didn't want to bother you," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.

"No bother at all," she said, standing. She pulled her chair away from the table and took her wand out of her sleeve. She tapped it on the chair's arm, and spoke in that same language Madame Pomfrey had used. _I'll have to pay better attention to what they're saying. It might come in handy… My goodness, what happened to that chair?!_

While I had been thinking, the chair had stretched and morphed into something larger than me with an ugly, stupid face. It was still made of wood, and when I knocked on it with my fist, it seemed solid, or at least very thick.

"Excellent work, Minerva," Dumbledore praised.

"I made use of a few growth lines still in the wood. Simple enough," she said, but she was smiling, "I thought a troll would be sufficiently menacing for this."

"It will be fine, but don't worry about me. I fought enough zombie shades in my time as a summoner not to be worried about a more human form, if that's easier for you," I said simply.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, "Zombie shades?"

"Yes. Sometimes, especially in Zanarkand, where there are enough pyreflies, the fiends project something that was once human, though no longer. The only disadvantage they have is that they always have a zombie spell on them, so they are easy enough to destroy," I replied.

"I'm afraid you've lost us again, dear. Pyreflies, zombie spell, fiends, what are those?" Dumbledore asked.

I laughed a little, "Pyreflies are the unsent souls of the dead that linger, and fiends are the monsters they become if they remain unsent. With the number killed by fiends and Sin, there are not enough summoners to send them all. Zombie spells are a form of black mage craft which turn all healing spells into damage. But I'm afraid I've just said enough to give you more questions. Perhaps you could hold your questions till after my demonstration?"

"Of course, my dear. Go on, please."

With that, I decided to cast first, summon after, "If you could all please step back against the wall? I'm afraid the summoning itself can be a bit dangerous if you're too close."

They did, with a few cautious glances I don't think I was meant to catch. I raised my chin. Being a summoner was a thing to be proud of, even if it made the people around me nervous. It was a strange reaction that I'd only received from a few Gaudo and Al Bhed. The followers of Yevon were familiar with aeons, and respected summoners as protectors, knowing our sacrifice.

I stepped away from the table with my staff in hand, taking a deep breath. Almost unconsciously, a smile lit my features. I loved summoning more than almost anything. I felt so free and powerful, and in tune with the consciousness of the aeons, especially the one I called. They were always there, of course, in the back of my mind, but it wasn't the same as summoning them.

I began the dance I'd learned so many years ago in the temple of Bevelle. It was something we learned before we started our pilgrimage. The aeons could teach us, of course, but it was better to have it engraved in our minds so that it couldn't be forgotten in the middle of battle. Dancing it always brought to mind the hours of drills in a backroom of Bevelle Temple, myself and two other apprentices dancing it over and over under the strict eye of a temple priestess. I shuddered to think that I could have shared the bitter old woman's fate.

Light sprung up around my feet and I hummed the Hymn of the Fayth quietly. _Ieyui, nobomenu, renmiri, yojuyogo, hasatekanae, kutamae..._ My staff swung up almost of its own accord, throwing a ball of lightning at a spot in the air. I began to sing aloud. One thing all those drills had not taught us was the sheer joy that filled you from the aeon. As it took flesh, it was so happy, and the joy ran into you as you released it from its statue.

A horn emerged from the glymph hanging in the air, and I caught a glimpse of astonishment on the faces lined up against the wall as I spun to pull Ixion free just before my braids swung around and blocked my line of sight. Ixion came charging out with a battle-ready rear, throwing back his head and neighing a challenge, tongues of lightning running down his flanks.

I smiled, waving him over to my side. Ixion was my third aeon. The more aeons you received, the more distant the bond was. Ixion and I were reasonably close compared to say, Valefor, but distant compared to my bond with Bahamut. He strode up regally, his neck arched so the braids in his mane tinkled slightly. I ran a hand over his nose, using a very small amount of my power to push the lightning back so I wouldn't get shocked.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Well, that's it for now! Review!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter four! Um, I just realized that I had chapters five and six finished, and it had been like eleven pages of writing since I'd posted. I've been writing like a fiend today, but my effing muse won't leave me alone. So here you go!

**Chapter Four**

After greeting my aeon, I turned back to my audience and smiled widely, "You can come closer now," I turned back to Ixion, "I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to show you off a bit."

As they approached, Professor Snape snorted, "You talk to that beast like he can understand you."

I blinked, "He can. Why wouldn't he be able to?"

"'He's' not human," he replied, as though it were obvious.

"Well he was, a long time ago. His spirit still is. Aeons are the physical manifestation of people who gave their lives to fight Sin. They allowed their souls to be pulled from their still living bodies to be imprisoned in statues, called forth only by summoners to do battle."

Snape stopped dead, incredulous, "That's dark magic. Headmaster, you allowed a practitioner of the Dark Arts into this school?"

"I admit I did not know. This is very serious, Lady Palme. I must demand an explanation," Dumbledore said.

"Have you never made a sacrifice in war, Headmaster? Summoners exist to battle the creature Sin, a fiend of a sort. Sin appeared one thousand years ago as a punishment for the war that raged between two great cities. Ever since, we have fought just to protect our homes. The fayth, the souls in the statues that become aeons when matched with a summoner, were willing to lay down their lives to protest the people of Spira. Since Sin was born a thousand years ago, aeons and their summoners have saved countless lives," I replied with a spark in my eyes, my forehead pressed to Ixion's.

"A thousand years and you have not yet managed to kill the beast?" Snape sneered. Dumbledore settled back, considering.

"Of course we have. A dozen times over. But Sin is reborn every time. All we summoners can do is to hold it back for a time, give the people of Spira a chance to breathe easy and sleep in their beds without the fear of not waking up in the morning for a time," my eyes finally snapped over to Snape's, alive with passion, "It is a summoner's duty to protect the people of Spira, send the dead to their final resting place in the Farplane, and obtain the final aeon to fight and defeat Sin, at the cost of their life, and frequently their guardians' as well."

Dumbledore's eyes were completely serious, "I apologize, Lady Palme. We should not have assumed such a thing about your culture," he turned to Ixion, "I apologize to you as well, Ixion."

Ixion tossed his head and snorted. I answered for both of us, "Accepted."

"I feel I must ask, however. Why are you here if you are pledged to defeat this Sin monster?" Dumbledore continued.

My eyes darkened, and I turned back to Ixion, dismissing him back through a glymph that briefly appeared to delay my answer for a moment. I stayed facing away to school my features, taking a deep breath, speaking carefully, "My pilgrimage went well enough. My guardian and I had travelled Spira far and wide, visiting temples and helping people. We arrived in Zanarkand, travelling through the ancient ruins to Lady Yunalesca. However, just as we solved the final puzzle in Zanarkand Temple, a great fiend appeared. It was Lady Yunalesca's Spectral Keeper, her final test for summoners. I survived the battle. My guardian did not. Without a guardian, Lady Yunalesca cannot guide a summoner to the final aeon. Rather than return and live a life of solitude as a priestess, I chose to come here and continue helping people."

"I am sorry for your loss, Lady Palme. We however, are glad of your presence," Dumbledore seemed ready to drop the subject. I was as well.

"Stand back from the dummy, please, and I will cast," I said, face blank. I saw something like respect flit across Snape's face.

I raised my staff, and let it rip, channeling my upset into the magic. I had thought to keep it mild, using the milder versions, like fire and blizzard, but I found myself casting a thundaga, followed closely a waterage, blizzaga, and a firaga that made the whole mess of the troll dummy spark and crackle, reducing it to an ashy skeleton. I hit the ashes with a demi, and stood panting slightly as the black dome of gravity magic faded. I glared at the ashes, hitting it with one more firaga to finish it off. When the flames cleared, little more than ashes remained on the floor. I felt a bit better, smirking slightly. I had always had a natural ability with fire spells, able to control and wield them better than most mages.

Dumbledore had his eyebrows raised. Professor McGonagall was smiling slightly, and Professor Snape looked thoughtful. The rest appeared uncertain and a little bit wary.

"Oh, I'm sure you can similar things with your magic, so don't look at me like that. It's only intimidating because it's battle magic," I smiled openly and innocently.

Dumbledore chuckled, "True enough, but I don't believe anyone in this room can believe that innocent look anymore."

"Maybe not, but it puts most people at ease after a display like that," I replied.

"Tell me, could you teach any of that to our students?" asked Professor Lupin.

"Lupin, you can't be serious!" exclaimed Professor Sprout, horrified.

"I am. With the war coming, battle magic would be a good thing to have them learn. Something not bound by spell words, something Death Eaters don't know, something to defend themselves with," Lupin said.

"Professor Lupin has a point, but we don't yet know if it can be done. Can it, Lady Palme?" asked Dumbledore.

"The mage craft, yes. I have a couple of dolls, and I could make more. The summoning would be useless without the fayth, and neither know how to make them, nor would I if I could," I replied thoughtfully.

"Dolls? Why would you need dolls?" asked Professor Flitwick.

"Most mages use them rather than a staff. I use my staff because I'm a summoner, but it's actually easier to work through a doll. I have a moogle and a cactuar, and I can make a more if necessary," I replied.

"How long would this take to teach?" asked Dumbledore.

"Some years. It's different for every student, but it could be and has been regulated for multiple students."

"Wouldn't it be easier for Lady Palme to have them commissioned for sale at a shop in Diagon Alley and sold to the students entering her class?" McGonagall interjected.

"Yes, but won't the Ministry try to interfere if you start a class on magic that they don't have records on? They could argue it would be a danger to students," Professor Flitwick continued thoughtfully, "Especially because it is battle magic."

I realized the conversation had gone beyond me at this point, and decided not to interfere with the meeting they seemed to be holding.

"You have a point, Professor Flitwick, but I am Headmaster at this school. If we register this magic with the Ministry, they have no further say in the matter," Dumbledore inserted.

"Unless they rule the magic dark. Then they would be able to not only be able to remove her from the school, but get a foot into the door at Hogwarts," Snape said seriously.

Everyone looked serious and silent for a moment. Then Professor Sprout spoke up, "I think it's worth the risk. If Harry could learn this…"

"Harry could learn this in private tutoring, and probably advance faster than if he had to share her time with a dozen other students," Flitwick said sharply.

"And leave our other students without a valuable magical tool at their aide? Mr. Potter will not be the only one in danger in the times coming. And this is no worse than the things we teach in other classes, especially Defense, as Lady Palme pointed out," Dumbledore said, seemingly closing the conversation and turning to me, "The only thing remaining is if Miss Diandar is willing. It would give you an income to be independent. You would have a something to do between now and when the battles begin in a few years. Well, Miss Diandar, will you do it?"

I considered for a moment, "I'll do it on one condition."

"What is that?" Dumbledore asked, though I think he somehow already knew.

"Teach me how to do that," I said, waving generally between Professor McGonagall and the pile of ashes on the floor and clarified, "Your version of magic."

Dumbledore smiled, "Done. We'll set you up with private tutoring sessions and get you a wand when we take you to the Ministry of Magic to get your magic registered. We can get those, erm, dolls commissioned while we're there. Minerva, could you get something in the letters about the new class in the annual letters to the students? Just have them pick up a doll and send us a letter if they are interested in the new class. Perhaps we should offer it with the other electives to the third years and up?"

"Very well, Albus," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Good, good. Welcome to the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Diandar," Dumbledore said warmly, shaking my hand.

"Though we must get you more appropriate clothes, dear!" Professor Sprout began fussing, smiling hugely.

I looked down and my long sleeved and low cut blue shirt, my white shorts and boots, smiled, and looked back at her, "I suppose I do stand out a bit, but don't expect me not to wear them when school is not in session. They're comfortable and wear well in battle."

She looked a little strained at that, but smiled anyway, "If you must, dear, but they are simply not fit for a Hogwarts Professor, so please, not in front of the students," she looked thoughtful for a moment, "Or the Ministry. They'll never take you seriously in that."

I smiled back, "Well, we wouldn't want that!"

**TBC**

**A/N: **Well, that's that. Hope you enjoyed, if you, did, REVIEW! I love you!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Whew! This was a long one. I had a lot of fun with this one, which you'll see. This chapter is not G-rated, so if mild violence and sexual situations offend you, this is the part where you hit the back button. If not, enjoy!

**Chapter Five**

I had been staying in Hogwarts for a week now, and received a massive shock in the form of the talking portraits. I had been a little too preoccupied to notice them that first night, but discovered them abruptly when one addressed me when I was about to make a wrong turn on my way to breakfast the next morning. I'd jumped about three feet in the air before turning, staff up, to see nothing but a painting. When the old man in wizarding robes raised an eyebrow, mine went up in return. He raised a hand and pointed in the right direction, and I had taken more careful notice of my surroundings from then on.

Professor Sprout was now taking me through Diagon Alley. It was a culture shock in every sense of the phrase. I hadn't jumped when the brick wall pulled back, having seen similar things in the Cloister of Trials of the temples. All the puzzles there had involved moving parts to get to the fayth. But the rush of wizarding traffic had nearly knocked me off my feet with its strangeness.

Hundred of witches and wizards swarmed the place like an anthill, so that the shop fronts were nearly invisible. Street peddlers added to the pandemonium, yelling out their wares. Silvia, as Professor Sprout had insisted I call her by her given name once I was named a professor, caught my eye and sniffed pointedly, clearly giving her opinion on there legitimacy. I got a few odd looks, as I was flashing the most thigh in the place. Mostly, however, we were ignored as we threaded our way through the street.

The first shop Silvia pulled me into was Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Madam Malkin herself widened her eyes when she saw me.

"Oh my, do we have a latecomer to Hogwarts, Professor Sprout?"

"No, no, she's been hired as a professor. She needs appropriate robes to teach in," Silvia answered her.

"Oh, yes, I can see that!" she exclaimed. I could see the gossiping busybody wheels turning in her head.

Silvia narrowed her eyes, and spoke firmly, "Yes, she does. Now, just charge everything to the Hogwarts tab."

Madame Malkin seemed to catch herself, straightening and urging me up on a stool. A measuring tape whizzed in our direction, as did a quill and a piece of parchment. I was measured quickly, Madame Malkin giving me orders to lift and lower my arms, turn, and bend in directions I thought unnecessary to take measurement. She barked out the numbers to the quill, which was scribbling on the parchment in midair.

I stepped down from the stool dizzily, and promptly a parade of robes began to present themselves in front of me. I began to respond with quick yes and no's. This was repeated with shirts and slacks, socks, underclothes, and a few pairs of shoes. I blushed at the underclothes, but in the end, Madame Malkin had a decent wardrobe piled up in front of her. She promptly shooed us out of her shop, telling us to come back in an hour for my new things, and we left, me feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Well, that was… something," I said, watching Madame Malkin usher another client in her door, already glancing and waving in our direction as we continued down the street.

Silvia laughed, "That's Madame Malkin for you, Palme dear. Half of Diagon Alley will know who you are before we get back from Ollivander's."

I hiked my bag with my moogle and cactuar in it a little further up my shoulder, but I had to stop when it slipped right back down. I looped the long strap over my shoulder and settled it so it hung across my body. I looked up, but Silvia was gone. I spotted a head of silvery head in a bun like Silvia's across the street. I rushed towards it, bumping into a few people as I went. By the time I had crossed the street, the witch was gone. I stood still for a moment, scanning the crowd. I had just decided to stay put and wait for her to find me in the mouth of an alley, when a wizard with curled lip addressed me.

"Get back where you belong, slut!" he said with a shove back into the alley.

I stumbled backwards, hitting my back sharply into the wall. The wizard stayed at the mouth of the alley, wand now out, and I beat a hasty retreat down the alley. When I slowed, I realized I had hit the less than reputable portion of wizarding society. I gripped the strap of my bag, gazing around me at the run down shops, and witches in low-cut robes beckoning wizards from street corners.

A well-dressed wizard emerged from a shop labeled Borgin and Burkes. He was tall, blond, with piercing grey eyes. He seemed the least sleazy of the men around me, so I approached him for help.

"Sir, please, I…" he cut me off as I spoke.

"Draco, go meet your mother at Quality Quidditch," he said, looking at me down his nose.

The boy, Draco, sneered at me, clearly thinking I was one of the whores on the corner.

"Sir, you don't understand…"

"Draco. Now," he ushered with a sharp glance at what I took to be his son.

The boy hurried away, not looking back, "Now what have we here. You're certainly a new one. Well, the girls will have filled you in. I pay well, and you'll have a good enough time," the way he looked at me made my skin crawl, and I backed up against a wall. He closed in on me, intent clear on his features.

"You certainly do have exotic features, my dear," he smiled, and it was not a nice smile, "I think I would like to see them wearing a different expression, though."

"Sir, I think there has been a mistake. I'm not…"

"Oh, don't be shy, you must really be very new. Don't worry, we all know why you're here," he reached to remove my bag, his lips closing in on mine, taking them in a searing kiss.

_That's it! _I thought, _You've done it now, buddy!_ I shoved his hand away from my bag and reached in for the moogle. I pulled it up between our stomachs, inadvertently pulling up his shirt. He seemed to take this as a sign of acceptance, moving down to bite my neck. As soon as my lips were free, I screamed as loudly as I could, blasted him back with a blast of straight energy that I channeled through my moogle and into him. He stumbled back a few feet, before regaining his balance and looking at me angrily.

"You little slut!" he snarled, raising a hand to slap me.

"Mr. Malfoy! Please do not cause further distress to Professor Diandar!" Silvia was there, wand out and pointed at my attacker.

He looked at me sharply, taking me in once more, "Forgive me, Professor Sprout. I had taken her for… something else," he straightened his robe, bowing to me and Silvia as though nothing had happened, "I hope to see you at the next School Board meeting, Professor Diandar," he turned sharply on his heel, striding back towards Diagon Alley.

I shivered, looking after him for a moment before turning back to Silvia, "Thanks. That was a close one."

She took my arm and started pulling back to Diagon Alley, "How on Earth did you end up in Knockturn Alley, dear?"

"Some jerk shoved me down here and called me a slut, told me to get back where I belonged. He had his wand out, so I ran," I replied, "I approached… what was it, Malfoy? Because he looked the safest of everyone in the alley to help me. Bad idea."

"Yes, well, let's go get your wand."

Ollivander's was a dimly lit shop lined with rows and rows of dusty boxes. The man himself came bustling around the corner, a quill stuck behind his ear, and what looked like soot in his curly, white hair. He dusted off his slacks as he approached. When he reached us, I realized he only came up to my chin.

"Welcome, welcome… oh my!" he exclaimed, "Well, let's see then."

He clapped, and another measuring tape came flying at me. I resisted the urge to duck, allowing the much pushier measuring tape to measure unlikely parts of my body, like around my head and from the tip of my middle finger to me elbow. Ollivander made cryptic 'hmms' the whole time, and finally I let out a sigh of relief as the measuring tape withdrew.

"Let's see, perhaps…" he went shuffling down a row of boxes, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Silvia was snickering in her hand.

"He hasn't changed a bit since I got my wand," she whispered to me.

Ollivander came back with a long box, "You seem to need a longer wand," not surprising since my weapon was a staff, "Eleven and a half inches of oak, with a unicorn hair core."

He handed me a wand made of a pale wood. I waved it casually, and a bunch of sparks went flying into a row of shelves, causing a small explosion.

"Not that one, then," he went back down the row, "Perhaps this one. Eleven inches of holly wood, phoenix feather core."

Something glass over the door behind me shattered this time.

"Nope," he seemed almost cheerful. Several more explosions, one broken chair, and another shelf collapse later, he approached me again.

"Twelve inches of willow, very flexible. A phoenix feather core. Try it, dear."

I cautiously waved this one, ready to flinch back, my battle instincts kicked into high gear. The wand, however, only gave off a gentle shower of golden sparks.

Ollivander and Silvia smiled, "That one, then," Ollivander said.

Silvia again put it on the Hogwarts tab. We waved as we stepped back onto the street. Silvia and I chatted laughingly about my mishaps, Silvia telling me about all the things she had blown up when getting her first wand. We stopped back at Madame Malkin's, who quickly stopped talking to a witch she had looking at a purple velvet robe when we walked in. The witch gave us a critical look when she recognized me as the subject of their conversation.

"Here you are, dear. All ready to go, shrunk and packaged with a carry all charm," Madame Malkin said brightly, handing me a small bag with her shop name on the side.

"Thank you, Madame Malkin," I said politely, trying not to look at the witch, who was not so subtly staring at me. Silvia hurried me out of the shop.

"Alright dear, one more shop to drop off your work order and we'll head back to Hogwarts. Unless you'd like to do some exploring first?" Silvia asked.

"I'd like that, but let's work before we play, shall we?" I replied.

"If that's what you'd like, Palme."

**TBC**

**A/N: **That was something! Anyways, I do have chapters six and seven written, they should be up shortly, and chapter eight… I working on that. It'll be written soon, so since I'm being such agood author, you should be a good reader and REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter six is up! Chapter seven is finished, and chapter eight is in the works. My plot bunny just has to bite just a bit better to get that one really rolling…

**Chapter Six**

We squeezed down the street towards Brown's Magical Instruments. _Have the streets gotten _more_ crowded?_ I wondered as we shoved our way into the magical instruments store. I stopped inside the door, looking around in amazement. My first impression of the place was rotating gold. Dozens of instruments lined the walls and crowded the windows, catching the sunlight a dozen directions as loops and spheres twisted and floated slowly, eventually setting the pale wood of the walls aglow. I recognized none of them. After my eyes adjusted to the flux of beauty, I began to notice other, smaller things not crafted of gold that I did recognize. Compasses, exacting rulers, and other devices for drafting were laid out neatly or in bins, depending on size and complexity.

Silvia was already talking to the older witch at the desk by the time I finished gaping. She was asking to talk to the owner. The witch smiled politely, asked a younger woman to watch the store, and walked into the back room. A few minutes passed while I was examining a few of the more complex devices before the witch returned with a middle aged wizard in tow. He had laugh lines around his eyes and was dressed in long, brown robes.

He smiled at Silvia, and she motioned me closer. I caught the tail end of their conversation, "… hope those plant supports are working for you, Silvia."

"They are actually. But that's not why we're here. Edward, this is Palme Diandar. Palme, this is Edward Brown."

"How do you do, Miss Diandar?" he inquired, smiling.

"I'm doing well," I replied.

"Edward, Palme is a new professor at Hogwarts, and she needs some things made to order for her students," Silvia cut in briskly.

"Always looking to expand business," he seemed pleased, "What do you teach, and what do you need made?"

"I'm not sure what the Headmaster wants to call it, this is the first year it's being taught…" I trailed off, looking at Silvia.

"He's just calling it Mage Craft, dear," Silvia explained.

"Yes, Mage Craft, and, well, I need some of these made, and possibly some of these," I continued, pulling the moogle from my bag first, then the cactuar, "It's easier to learn and teach if you only have one type of doll, which the moogles are the most basic type of, but the cactuars may suit a few students better, and eventually I'll want my students to be able to use different types of dolls, so I wouldn't carry too many for a year or two. I'll keep in contact about when to start carrying more," I said, watching his face.

"You… want me to make… these?" he asked studying them carefully.

"Oh, no, dear. I've discussed it thoroughly with Palme, and we've decided a very careful duplication charm should do," Silvia replied.

"But make sure you use a good one. There are some things inside that make them work, and not getting them just right could imbalance the whole doll and end very badly," I warned, worried, "I might eventually have my advanced students make their own, but that'll be a long time from now. You must first understand how to use one before you can make one yourself."

He smiled, "Like many things in this world. I've never heard of Mage Craft before."

"With good reason. Our next stop is actually in the Ministry of Magic to register her magic, so you might not want to put them out for a day or two," Silvia said.

"Good to know. I'll keep that in mind. Now, do you want these back now, or…?"

"We're going to explore Diagon Alley for a bit. You have some time to duplicate each before we leave. Will an hour be enough?" Silvia asked.

"Yes, yes, plenty of time. Have fun, and welcome to Great Britain, Professor Diandar."

We walked back out into the street, me looking around in more interest now that I had free reign to explore. The first place we went was the Magical Menagerie. I gaped at cages of multicolored cats, sure that colors didn't belong on a cat. I looked in at the newts and frogs, not understanding why anyone would want one for a pet. The snakes creeped me out a little bit. I moved on quickly to the two headed puppies, which were oddly cute.

We hit Eeylops Owl Emporium, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and Flourish and Blott's, actually buy me enough quills and parchment for the school year. Then we swung by the Cauldron Shop to pick me up a Hogwarts standard cauldron for my lessons.

As we stepped out onto the street, I saw a crowd of teenage boys crowded around the window of a store named Quality Quidditch. I pulled Silvia by the arm over to see what they were looking at. I saw her cover a smile with her free hand as we crossed the street. Several boys on the edge of the crowd stepped back when they saw Silvia, murmuring a quiet 'Professor,' to her. This allowed me close enough to the window to see a young wizard placing a broom into the window. I cocked my head at Silvia wondering what on earth was so fascinating about a broom.

She leaned in close and whispered, "We fly on brooms, dear. It's actually quite fun, though these old bones haven't been on one in years," I raised an eyebrow, "Madame Hooch will teach you once the school year starts, though you'll never get time on the pitch once Quidditch starts."

I wasn't sure what Quidditch was, but I figured a pitch must be a place where you fly on a broom. I was a little apprehensive to try it, but excited, too.

"Professor Sprout, what are you doing outside of Quality Quidditch?" asked a young redheaded boy. He had to be in his early teens, and a smattering of freckles covered his nose.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, I was just showing our new professor around Diagon Alley, and she wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Silvia replied with a smile.

"That's the new Defense professor? Blimey!" he said, and then quickly blushed. A great deal of attention was suddenly focused our way, and I realized most, if not all, of these boys must be students at Hogwarts.

"No, no, Mr. Weasley, she's the teacher for the new class, the one your letter this year mentioned." The boy suddenly looked uncomfortable, and I realized he must have only skimmed his letter and missed the announcement of my class completely.

A young girl with bushy brown hair suddenly appeared next to him, "I remember that. The class was called Mage Craft, and I haven't found any mention of it in any of our schoolbooks. It wasn't even in _Hogwarts, A History_."

"'Course it weren't, 'Mione. Not everything's in that book," the boy, Mr. Weasley, replied scathingly.

"A great deal is, however, Mr. Weasley, and you should consider reading it," Silvia said, scolding lightly, "However, Miss Granger, you won't find anything in books just yet. You should read an article or two in the _Prophet_ tomorrow, though. It's a new style of magic. The materials should be available in a day or two if you want to take it."

I smiled and decided to extract us from this situation, "It was nice meeting you two, and I hope to see you in my class. I suspect I will see you, at least, Miss Granger," she smiled back and nodded.

As we walked away, I heard the whispering begin, "Did you _see_ her?!"

"Wow, I'll take her class just to see those _legs_!"

"And her accent! What _was_ it?"

"Honestly, you boys! Don't any of you want to take her class because it will be _interesting_?"

"Ah, teenage hormones at work. Word should spread through the grapevine, and I believe Minerva will be quite busy sorting through all the interest letters in the next few days," Silvia smiled.

"You did that on purpose!" I admonished, laughing. I wasn't terribly pretty, but years of hard training and the pilgrimage had done wonders for my figure.

"Of course, dear. Teenagers are terrible about picking up another class with an unknown teacher. I just gave your class numbers a significant boost."

"You're terrible!" I laughed.

We went back to Brown's Magical Instruments and picked up my moogle and cactuar. I picked up the duplicate and ran them through the gamete of my spells, never letter my spells move past the palm of my hand. Satisfied, we left.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Short and sweet: REVIEW!!! I'm not even holding the chapters for ransom, I just want hear from you. I know you're out there!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **First off, sorry this chapter is so hysterically short. My muse isn't biting for the trip to the Ministry, and I'm in the middle of finals week, so I'm a little short on time right now. Fear not! Next week is Christmas break, and once I fight my way through chapter eight, my muse is ready and willing to supply lots more chapters! It's just one of those chapters, you know? Anyways, enjoy!

**Chapter Seven**

We went back to Hogwarts to drop off our purchases. I trudged my way to my room and dropped off my purchases on the bed, picking up my staff with a sigh of relief. It had been universally decided that my staff was too conspicuous, and since I had been carrying two dolls anyway, I had not argued overmuch. But I had not felt comfortable without my staff.

I set it back down on my bed and opened the bag from Madame Malkin's, which Silvia had removed the shrinking charm on when she dropped me off at my door. I picked out a simple cream shirt with a ruffle at the throat and pale grey slacks, throwing a darker grey robe over it and adding a pair of ankle boots with a heel, made of soft, grey suede. All the clothes felt strange to me, tight in different places and loose in others. I pulled some of the more colorful bead off the ends of my braids and looked at myself in the mirror. Dian would have laughed himself hoarse if he could see me now. I looked serious, like a professor. Or a summoner pretending to be one. A sharp wave of pain struck me. I missed Dian like a limb.

Making myself not cry, I straightened myself, looking myself in the mirror as I raised my chin. _I can do this. I can march into the Ministry and tell them exactly what I do, and they will not have a problem with it. I'll be fine. _

I didn't really believe it, but I supposed it was good enough for now. I tucked my new wand into my sleeve like Silvia had shown me and picked up my staff. It looked strange in my hands now. _I look… like a witch. Which I am now, so I guess that's alright. Just strange. And maybe it makes me miss home just a little, but I'll just have to get used to it. _

I walked out of my room, taking the spiral staircase down to the Great Hall, the two huge doors already sitting open. Silvia and Headmaster Dumbledore smiled at me as I walked in. I settled into my seat between Silvia and McGonagall. Now that we weren't eating in a formal staff meeting, the politics of the table had changed. We were now more organized by seniority and friendship. I had been a guest before, but now I realized Snape usually sat to Dumbledore's left. Flitwick sat next to Snape and Professor Trelawney beyond him. McGonagall, I, Silvia, Hagrid, and Lupin sat across the table. Madame Pince and Madame Pomfrey now sat ate with us as well, sitting next to Professor Trelawney.

The whole atmosphere was more relaxed now. Easy banter and friendly chatter circulated the table, and I found myself a part of it more often than not, as the professors shared stories about students over the years, and I heard more than one warning about the Weasley twins.

"I'm afraid I've doomed poor Palme here to the Weasley twins. I feel like I've sent her to the lions," Silvia snickered.

"How so?" asked Flitwick.

Silvia told them about our adventure with the Sea of Raging Hormones outside of Quality Quidditch, "And I'm afraid the one to strike up the conversation was the youngest Mr. Weasley. If he doesn't convince the twins to take that class solely based on the merits of Palme's legs, I miss my guess."

"Oh, hush, and if those boys are hoping for a glimpse of my 'amazing legs' they'll be sadly disappointed when they see me the night of the feast. If you're right, all of the Heads will have to deal with a great deal of drops almost immediately!" I scolded.

"Well, we'll just have to keep them from dropping. If they are actually silly enough to sign up for a class because they like the way a professor looks, then they'll have to deal with the consequences," McGonagall said.

"Though I do worry about the wisdom of teaching the Weasley twins elemental spells. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen," commented Flitwick.

"Well, it can't be _too_ much worse than what the pull already, and they aren't known for pulling malicious pranks. I think the worst we'll have to deal with is the stray water spell when we come through a doorway," concluded McGonagall. There were murmurs of both agreement and doubt around the table.

The meal came to a close shortly afterwards, and Dumbledore stood, motioning me to follow. I fell into step with him in the hallway.

"Silvia tells me you had a run in with Lucius Malfoy in Knockturn Alley. Now, I don't think I have to warn you about Knockturn Alley, you saw that for yourself. But do be careful of Lucius. He's on the School Board, and has strong ties in the Ministry in the parts where money goes a long way, which is more of it than one would hope," Dumbledore began.

"Is that what he meant when he made that crack about the meetings? What a creep. You don't have to tell me twice, believe me."

"Good. One less thing to worry about."

**TBC**

**A/N: **Much love to hermonine, my first and only reviewer to this story! She gets a cookie. My mommie sent me some for finals week, and they're delicious! Review if you want one to!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Wow. This thing is monstrous. Lol! Sorry for the slight wait, this should make up for it. Seven freaking pages! I usually do about three.

**Karen!: **I'm giving your questions special space here since I couldn't answer them this chapter. For your information, in my mind there are about 5 weeks till school starts, but I still have to check the web to see if that lines up with the visit the Golden Trio made to Diagon Alley, since I put Ron and Hermione in that one chapter. Classroom is all figured out, but you'll have to wait a bit for that. As for the ghosts, I have a special scene planned out for that explanation, as well as one with Peeves. Thanks for your review!

**Chapter Eight**

Dumbledore and I flooed into the Ministry of Magic, and I was floored by the place. I had never seen such grandeur outside of Bevelle, and my pilgrimage had made me appreciate beauty everywhere I saw it. When you live in a world wracked by such pain as Spira was, every scrap of beauty triples in value. The heels of my shoes tapped quietly across the marble as I walked behind Dumbledore, gaping at the arched ceilings. A huge golden statue dominated the center of the room. I didn't get to see the details before Dumbledore pulled attention to a bored looking witch at a desk in the corner of the Atrium, the hallway beyond her seemingly leading to the street entrance. She was chewing on the tip of her quill and reading a magazine with her feet propped up on her desk.

"Wands," she intoned, not looking up.

"Here you are, my dear," Dumbledore said, passing his wand to her. She looked up sharply, and I saw her eyes go wide. _I suppose Dumbledore must be well-known in the wizarding world._ She straightened quickly, taking his wand from him, and looking at me expectantly. I pulled my new wand from my sleeve and handed it to her as well.

She puttered around her office, placing Dumbledore's wand on a scale and taking a few quick notes, "Here you are, sir," she said, then turned to me, "One moment please."

She hurried back to the scale and began the same process with my wand, before turning to me with a frown, "This wand has never cast a spell. What happened to your old one?"

"It broke in a rather bad accident on her way to Great Britain," Dumbledore responded smoothly. _I have the feeling he's going to be responding for me a lot today. I'd better get used to keeping my mouth shut. _

"Of course, sir. It's just my job, you see. Wands have been purchased for single crimes so they couldn't be traced. I'm required to ask," she replied meekly.

"I understand, my dear," Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh! And there's a note here for you, sir," she said, grabbing an airplane made of parchment that had been zooming around the limited airspace of her office and handing it to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, my dear," Dumbledore replied, unfolding what turned out to be a letter. He skimmed it quickly, and I saw his eyes darken.

Dumbledore looked at me, "It seems there's been a last minute change of plans. We've been summoned before the Wizengamot."

"The Wizen-what?" I asked.

"The Wizengamot is the wizarding government. They are a large body of witches and wizards who make our laws and handle large cases. I was hoping to avoid this," he said, looking rueful and wistful all at once. The look reminded me of the last time I'd had it on my face.

"_I was hoping to avoid all this," I said ruefully. _

_Dian smirked, "They weren't going to let you go without something. You're our _hope_."_

_I smacked his arm, "Jerk. You're getting some sort of sick kick out of this, aren't you?"_

"_Absolutely, little sister," he continued to look all too smug as the priestesses foisted yet another trinket onto me for my staff, "They just want you to feel cared for."_

"_How is that helpful? To complete my pilgrimage, I must put aside all personal attachments to those who are not my guardians and love Spira as a whole."_

"_Ah, but personal attachments remind you what your fighting for."_

_I sighed as I wrapped the cords around my staff. Each of the four priestesses who had helped in my training had offered me one. The beaded pendants were at least useful, with magical protections woven into each. One even had a luck sphere threaded onto it. _

_We stood at the gates of Bevelle, our packs full of enough food to make it to the next temple. The temples would support us from their private gardens, ensuring that we didn't take food away from the mouths of the people._

"_Everyone should have someone to wish them off on their pilgrimage," spoke a priestess with grey hair pulled back severely and tucked under a cap. She smiled at me and stroked a hand down the side of my face, "Sometimes we have to be those someones."_

_I smiled a watery smile. I had never wished so hard that our parents had lived._

_Dian slipped a hand into mine and leaned into my ear, "They'd be really proud, you know?"_

_Dian always knew what to say. _

I came back to myself rolling the trinkets on my staff while we stood in the lift.

"Are you alright, Palme?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Yes," I looked around a bit. We were surrounded by witches and wizards packed in close. More of the little planes zoomed around each other in the space above our head as we went deeper into the Ministry.

When we stepped off the lift, it was into a stone corridor, dimly lit and intimidating. My footsteps echoed dimly off the walls, mixing with the other witches and wizards that got off on the floor. About three quarters of the occupants exited with us.

Dumbledore's lips pressed together in a hard line, "I was afraid of this."

"What?"

"They're going to make this into a circus. The Minister has been pushing for a foothold in Hogwarts. We must be sure not to give it to him."

I stopped him with a hand on his arm, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He smiled, placing a wrinkled hand on mine, "I'm sure, my dear."

As we turned into a hallway away from the rest of the crowd, I heard Dumbledore humming a little tune. I cocked an eyebrow at his back and shook my head. I was reasonable sure I would never understand the way his mind worked, no matter how long I spent with him.

The hallway led to a small antechamber. Heavy benches lined the walls, with iron rings bolted to the floor next to them. Large tapestries covered the walls in green and gold, with a small table with flowers next to the large double door across from us.

Dumbledore noticed me eyeing the iron rings, "No one has been chained here since the Death Eater trials after the first war," he moved across the room and pushed open the doors. I followed and stepped out into the floor of a huge hall. I tried not to gape at the sheer number of witches and wizards staring at us and whispering to each other. I wasn't sure which of us attracted more attention: myself, as the oddity; or Dumbledore, as the apparently famous wizard who was accompanying the oddity.

Dumbledore motioned me to settle into the chair, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "The members of the Wizengamot are those in the purple robes with the W's on their chests. The rest are the curious who can obtain a seat by donation," he said this with a straight face, but I knew he meant bribe, "Those in the balcony are either member of the press, wizarding law students, or a few people not able to afford such a donation."

I stared up, shuddering slightly. The whole place was intimidating, from your lowered position, to the bare stone wall and flickering torchlight, to the chains hanging off my chair. I decided right then to never do anything that would put me on trial.

The place fell silent as a man in purple rose. He was seated at the center of the Wizengamot members, slightly ahead of the rest of his row. Dumbledore took a position at my shoulder with a hand on the seat back. I crossed my legs and settled my hands on my knee.

Another man, a bit further down, rose and spoke, his deep voice echoing across the hall, "The Wizengamot hearing in regards to new magic, with the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge presiding, will now come to order. Will the witness please stand and state her name and title for the record?"

I stood on shaky legs, making sure not to show my nerves and raised my chin, "Lady Palme Diandar," I enunciated, "Mage, summoner, and professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The Minister, or at least the other man who had stood and I assumed was the Minister, nodded for the questioning to proceed and seated himself, eyes focused on me.

The wizard who cleared his throat and stood then was a tall man, lean with a chiseled looking face. He had sharp, beady eyes that sank back into his head. His dark hair was short and slicked straight back.

"I am the Inquisitor that shall be presiding in this court. My name is Malthus Furbuck. Miss Diandar, you claim the title of Lady. What gives you this privilege?" his smile was polite, but unpleasant.

I smiled right back, "Lord or Lady is the title gained when one becomes a summoner. It refers not to my birth, but my abilities and the respect for them. Think of how you might refer to someone as a Potions Master. In a similar way, I am a Lady Summoner," Severus would have a fit at that comparison, but then, he wasn't here.

He looked like he smelled something unpleasant, "Very well, _Lady_ Diandar. Define for this court the abilities and talents of a summoner."

This was a topic I could warm to, "A summoner is a highly respected position. To even begin the training, you must demonstrate a good deal of magical talent. If accepted to the training, it then takes several years of grueling work as an apprentice summoner. Even then, you may fail to become a summoner if you are not able to obtain an aeon."

"And an aeon is what?" he sneered.

"Something I summon, of course. A powerful creature to help me do battle," a stir went through the audience.

"Can you demonstrate this talent for the court, Lady Diandar?"

"If I must," I considered. I wanted to give them an appropriate jolt without them attempting to ban the use of my aeons. Not that it would stop me, but I'd rather not be arrested for their use. Then I caught site of something that changed my mind: Malfoy was sitting in the front row of the 'donators' section looking smug. He gave me a raking look. _Perhaps I should give them more than a jolt. Besides, Ixion would fry everyone in the section of the balcony he appeared near. I was going to call Yojimbo, but now I think… _I nodded, decided.

"Can you put up shields between the audience and me?"

"Of course, Lady Diandar," I could see Furbuck just starting to eye me cautiously.

"Headmaster, would you please step behind the shields?"

Dumbledore stepped around me as a door leading to the viewers section opened, "I hope you know what you're doing, Palme."

"Just making them properly cautious and respectful."

"Very well, I'll leave you to it."

As soon as the door closed behind him, I began. I knew this was the lowest level in the Ministry, just like I knew that the damage the floor would take was an illusion caused by pyreflies. But they didn't know that. My smile turned vicious as I spread my arms to begin the summoning, staff in hand. Lights flew up around me, casting strange shadows on the walls.

I held out my staff with both hands and turned it, fire appearing in its wake before coalescing into a ball and floating to the floor. A glymph appeared as the fire spread, and I knelt quickly to brace myself.

Ifrit burst from the floor, wreathed in flames, stone flying. For a moment I was eye to eye with a startled witch on the upper balcony. Then I was laughing in delight as I fell back down into Ifrit's waiting arms. Rock litter ringed the area he set me down in. I smiled widely up at him and stroked a non-fiery bit of his flank. I looked up and smirked at my audience as he released a flaming roar that rattled their chairs.

Not satisfied yet, I gave Ifrit a command. A whine filled the air as he conjured a massive ball of fire and stone, hurling it at the chair that I rather loathed at the moment. _Threaten _me_ with _chains_, of all things!_

With the chair in smoldering pieces and the half the hall in pieces behind me, I smiled sweetly up at the Wizengamot. They looked a good bit less pompous and smug and a good deal more wide eyed and intimidated. _It's about time!_

I made sure to catch Lucius Malfoy's eye at this point and give him my best shark smile. He looked unruffled, but I could make out a sheen of sweat by the light of Ifrit's flames. Well he should be nervous. Ifrit was twice my height in a crouch, with dark, curved horns and razor sharp teeth and claws. Flames licked up his bright hind legs and surged from his mouth with every breath. Ifrit was nothing if not a ferocious battle machine. It was only appropriate, since he had been a strong warrior as a human, and made a fayth in his armor.

"T-thank you, Lady Diandar," there was no disrespect in his voice now. Only a healthy dose of nerves. I was satisfied, "You may send it away now."

I smiled wider, "Oh, but don't you want an example of my mage abilities as well? I don't think the chair take much more," I said, glancing meaningfully at the blackened chair bits.

"Yes, well, be quick about it. The Wizengamot does not have all day," he shuffled the papers he held and cleared his throat.

"Alright. Ifrit, if you would?" Ifrit moved to stand across from me. I could feel his amusement reflected in mine, "First, since fire and ice are opposed, and I don't want to really harm my aeon, I'll cast a null spell against ice on him. This should protect him from the worst of the damage."

A ball of icy colored light sprang into existence and began to circle Ifrit, "Also, since he is a fire aeon, fire spells will heal him, so I'll be casting that last."

I decided that they'd probably had enough for today, so I should keep my spells mild. I threw the Thunder and Water spells first. They landed with little more than a grunt from Ifrit. I threw the Blizzard spell next, and the icy light slipped smoothly between the spell and Ifrit, both winking out of existence. Ifrit snorted slightly, a sort of sneeze of reaction to the icy magic near him. Finally, I cast Fire, and Ifrit arched his back into it like a cat, making me smile.

"There are, of course, healing magics that I work as well," I tossed a Cure in Ifrit's general direction, and he rolled his neck as the healing light washed over him, "Is that enough demonstration for you?"

Furbuck cleared his throat again, "Yes, I believe that will do, Lady Diandar."

Ifrit leaped up into a glymph over his head that I conjured with another wave of my staff. I saw the witches and wizards in the balcony lean away from the rush of hot air. The stone floor faded back to its original state, though the chair remained in its sad state. I felt no remorse about that. Battle energy was pumping through my veins, and I knew my eyes were alight with it.

Now that Ifrit was gone, Furbuck seemed to have regained most of his composure, "And this is what you want to teach the students of Hogwarts?" he sounded incredulous, glancing at Dumbledore, who was making his way back to my side. Dumbledore looked pointedly at the chair, and I had the grace to at least look sheepish.

"Not the summoning, no. Far too dangerous, and as Lady Diandar said, it can't be taught to just anyone. The mage craft is what she will be teaching," Dumbledore replied.

"Where did you learn all this? Where is she from? Why have we never heard of this before? The whole thing is far to organized to not have come to our attention before," Furbuck protested.

I hesitated, and Dumbledore stepped up, "Lady Diandar is from a small magical community in Asia. They keep themselves and their abilities rather isolated."

"And what made you step out into our world, Lady Diandar?" he looked at me pointedly. I was sure he would not accept an answer from Dumbledore.

I continued his explanation smoothly, "We are aware of what goes on here. After the last war, we wished to offer a measure of our protection. We did not want our powers to fall into the wrong hands and be used against the defenseless. I am sent as an ambassador and a peace keeper of a sort."

"And what makes you think the Ministry needs a defender?"

"I don't. That's why Headmaster Dumbledore hired me at Hogwarts," I smiled sweetly and triumphantly. _Take that!_

"And if the Ministry does not allow that?"

Dumbledore stepped forwards, "I would remind the Wizengamot that as Headmaster, I am allowed to decide what is taught at Hogwarts."

"But not if it is ruled dark magic. The Wizengamot will recess to discuss this matter. We ask the audience and the witnesses to please step outside."

The crowd streamed out into the corridors, and Dumbledore led me back to the antechamber through which we had entered. I was unsurprised to find Lucius Malfoy waiting there for us.

"Lady Diandar," he acknowledged, "Headmaster. May I have a moment of Miss Diandar's time?"

Dumbledore met my eyes, and I nodded. He retreated down the hall a ways, leaving me with Malfoy.

"Lady Diandar, it would be a tragedy for your fascinating subject not to be taught in Hogwarts. Such knowledge would be invaluable to the students," Malfoy drawled.

"Terrible to be sure, Mr. Malfoy. What is your point?"

"My point is, Madame, is that unless someone influential interferes on your behalf, that little display will be labeled dark magic, if only to spite Dumbledore."

"And let me guess, you just happen to be that influential someone? What do you want?"

"You seem to be the direct type, so I'll get to the point. I want our little altercation in the alley forgotten. Such a thing would be an unfortunate stain on my reputation. I also want you to teach my son, without our unpleasant encounter reflecting onto him," he extended his gloved hand.

I studied him for a long moment, before returning the handshake, "Sign up your son and get him a Moogle from Brown's Magical Instruments."

"I'm glad to see you are a reasonable woman, Lady Diandar. I can appreciate that. I'll see you at the school board meetings," he bowed slightly and turned back down the hallway. He nodded to Dumbledore in passing.

"I congratulate you on finding another fine staff member."

Dumbledore walked back over to me, giving me a curious look, "Mr. Malfoy was just approaching the Minister after he said his goodbyes."

"Good. I might have had to hit him if he hadn't," I replied.

Dumbledore just smiled and shook his head, "I take it we no longer have anything to worry about?"

"Nope. It's all under control."

A few minutes later we were called back into the courtroom. It didn't take much longer for the records taken in the courtroom to be transferred to the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the case to be closed. I inclined my head at Lucius Malfoy, and he gave me a small bow in return. _A reasonable woman indeed, Mr. Malfoy._

**TBC**

**A/N: **Whew! Thanks for reading the huge long chapter of doom, lol! I just couldn't find a place to cut it, so I didn't. As always, reviews= love!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Hey all, sorry it's been so long, college officially sucks. Anyways, to continue the story, I give you this!

**Important Notice:** I'm moving the events of Diagon Alley from August 31st, where JKR has them, to August 17th. This is to serve my owns ends, so Palme has time to adjust, write a lesson plan, etc., while still meeting the kids and leaving an impression.

**Chapter 9 **

The rest of the week flew by as I prepared for school to begin. I ordered a few extra Moogles, just in case a few blew up, which was known to happen with budding magelets, or a student wanted to pick up my class at the last minute.

My fingers skimmed across the smooth desktop to my left, while my head turned to look out across the classroom. Sunlight streamed through large windows looking out on a private courtyard. Double doors at the back of the room led to the hallway, while another single one between two windows led out into the courtyard. A chalkboard was set up to the left of my desk, and the room had a snug yet businesslike feeling.

I had spent the last hour practicing writing on the chalkboard with my wand. It was not easy. You had to keep half your mind on what you were saying, half on controlling the spell, and half on what you wanted written on the board. If you're any good at math at all, you can imagine just about how this was going.

I was finding that to be true of a lot of magic. I had managed to get some basic spells down. It was only important to know enough to convince the students I was competent before the school year began. So far that had consisted of basic Charms, such as _Lumos_ and _Wingardium Leviosa_, enough potions to be familiar with the effects of common ones, and enough Herbology not to get eaten or maimed if I had to go to the greenhouses. In short, just enough for our cover story to hold water, with promises of continued study on the weekends once school started. Everyone was rushing around the castle, gathering supplies, finalizing lesson plans, and generally looking quite stressed at the mere thought of students arriving on the first.

I myself was having the most difficulty, probably the worst of the lot, until Minerva had gently pulled me aside for tea. As soon as she poured me a cup, I burst into tears of frustration.

"I haven't the faintest idea of where to start! These spells are so common at home, and I've never had to teach anyone before. I'm literally having nightmares at the thought of being in front of those desks, a bunch of thirteen year olds staring at me!" I exclaimed.

Minerva had patted my hand, speaking soothingly till I had cried myself out a little bit, handing me a handkerchief. After I blew my nose, we spent the next two hours going over my lesson plan, adding and subtracting material till it was on a reasonable timeline for the third years.

"Now Palme, this can be taught at two or three times this pace?" Minerva asked, looking at the parchment critically.

"Yes."

"Then make this your plan for the fall, and then add more at a similar pace for spring. For the fifth years, make this a third of what you'll teach."

"Why?"

"Well, you can slow this down next year, but you must prepare you students for their OWLs."

I looked at her blankly.

"Oh, Merlin, has nobody told you yet?"

And so I gained a thorough knowledge of OWLs, NEWTs, and the nightmares they caused.

After another few minutes of mock lecturing and writing on the chalkboard with my back to it, I sighed and looked longingly out my window into the courtyard. Deciding to indulge myself, I stepped out into the stone yard. Another dummy troll was set up on the far end of the courtyard, this one made of steel.

Dumbledore had selected this classroom especially because of this courtyard. He had insisted that he wasn't concerned about _me_ casting elemental spells and blowing up half the furniture every week, but he couldn't say the same about a dozen and a half underage magelets. Thus I had received the only indoor-outdoor classroom in Hogwarts. The room itself was actually located in a corridor connected to the tower that housed me.

My office was set up in a room across the hall from my classroom. I had left it plain, not having many personal effects, only setting my spare moogles and cactuars on the shelves. The only things on my desk were parchment, ink and quill. I almost felt sorry for this. The first time since before I went to live at the temple for my apprenticeship that I had a space to be decorated, and I had nothing to decorate either my office or my room with.

As the sun shone on my face, I closed my eyes. It was August thirty-first. Students would be arriving tomorrow, and I was as ready as I was ever going to be. Oh, sure, another couple of days might give me time to iron out any wrinkles in my lesson plan or perfect a Charm I was working on, but I would fall to pieces mentally if I had to wait one more day.

Dinner came with sunset, and everyone was a little quiet. Not that this was abnormal for some of the staff, such as Severus, who normally kept to himself, but even Dumbledore was silent. Finally, I slammed my fork down, and all eyes turned to me.

"Alright, nobody is going to die. It's just five hundred or so spirited teenagers, what are you all so nervous about?"

Chuckles rose around the table, rueful and knowing. Dumbledore looked at me, eyes twinkling, "Ask us that in about a week, or better yet, you can tell us exactly why we're nervous."

"It can't be that bad," I replied, but I felt my nerves spike when they chuckled again and returned to dinner.

As dinner wore on, I began to realize someone was missing. Looking down the table, I took mental roll call, and found Remus missing.

"Headmaster, where's Remus?"

"Oh, he's not feeling well. He should make it to breakfast," Dumbledore replied brightly.

Minerva gave Dumbledore a sharp look. My own eyes flicked back and forth between them as Dumbledore gave her a meaningless smile in return, but I held my tongue. Apparently, whatever had passed between them was ignored by Minerva, who turned to me with a bright smile.

"Remus is actually going to Kings Cross Station to ride the train. I think it's half because of the Dementors and half because he wants to relive his school days a bit," Minerva laughed lightly, but there was a sharp gleam in her eyes, "Why don't I Apparate you down there in the morning? You could ride the train with him, see the carriages, and ride the boats across the lake with the first years. You could say you'd be getting the full Hogwarts experience."

"Minerva, I don't think that's necessary," Dumbledore started, but I had already realized wht Minerva was doing, and cut him off.

I allowed my face to light up, "Oh, that's a wonderful idea, Minerva. After all, I've never attended Hogwarts, and I think that'd be the perfect way to start off the year. Don't you think so, Severus?" I carefully kept my voice as bright and shallow as I could.

If Severus had been anyone else, I would have said a glimmer of humor crossed his dark eyes before he made a snide remark, and the issue was dropped. Before long, we all retired early, waiting for the storm to hit.

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Yay! Chapter 10! Finally!

**Chapter 10**

The only way I could describe Apparition is to compare it to being puked up by a Sand Worm, which is not a pleasant experience on the whole. Both squeeze the Farplane out of you, both land you on your ass, and both suck like crazy. At least Apparition doesn't leave you covered in drool with questionable bits of I-don't-want-to-know suspended in it. It was rapidly becoming my least favorite wizarding memory to date. Minerva was to my left, easily straightening her robes and in seconds looking completely unruffled. I didn't want to think about having enough practice with this mode of travel to take it in such stride.

Kings Cross Station housed a huge red Machina called a train. I wasn't entirely comfortable, but it, like wands and wizards and witty banter with Severus, was a part of my life now. Yevon might frown upon it, but I was too far removed from my culture to discriminate. Students were crawling all over the place, kissing relatives goodbye, or ducking, in the case of the boys, shoving trunks onto the train, greeting friends after the holidays. The whole place was warm and buzzing with excitement.

"There she is! Professor Diandar!" I turned to see a couple of familiar faces approaching. I recognized the brown haired girl and the red head from Diagon Alley, and they had quite the little crew in tow. A dark haired boy with glasses was the missing piece to their threesome and an entire flock of red heads trailed in the trio's wake.

The little bushy haired girl positively bubbles up in front of me. I believe Minerva called her Miss Granger. _Oh dear, this is going to be bad. _

"Mrs. Weasley, this is the new Hogwarts professor everyone's been talking about! The mage!" Miss Granger gushed excitedly, "I have so many questions! What's with the dolls? I haven't been able to do a thing with mine. I came close to casting a few spells on it, but with the trace I couldn't until I got on the train, but do you have any thoughts?"

I could see her taking a breath to continue this inquisition, so I cut her off quickly, "Miss Granger, please refrain from casting spells on your Moogle. I haven't gotten around to testing how the two magic styles react to one another, but I think casting willy-nilly at a magical object is a bad idea on the whole. Now, I'll take further questions on how to work your Moogle in class. Perhaps you could introduce me to the rest of your friends first, however?"

Miss Granger blinked then looked behind her, slightly chagrined, "Well, this is Harry and Ron, and Ron's family, the Weasleys. This is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny."

I hadn't kept the faintest track of that, though I had taken a quick look at the group. The infamous twins I stored instantly into my mental catalogue right between a Bandersnatch and a Funguar.

Mr. Weasley came forward and took my hand, shaking it heartily, "Heard you gave the Wizengamot what for. If you can give them a start and come out the other side, you're fine by me! They're still talking about it around the office. Quite a stir, young lady, quite a stir!"

Uncertainly, I shook his hand, "Well, I'm glad to have left an impression."

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure!" he laughed. I smiled. I like him. He was straightforward and friendly in a way most a Spira couldn't match.

"Now are you quite sure it's safe? Such a violent magic, with all that fire and lightning, I'm just a little concerned," Mrs. Weasley interjected.

Looking around quickly, I saw quite a few parents listening in intently. I caught Minerva's eye. She was looking anxiously at her watch, but I gave her a look, then dragged my eyes across the attentive parents again pointedly. When I looked back at her, her lips were drawn tight.

I flashed a smile at Mrs. Weasley, "I understand your concerns Mrs. Weasley, but I assure you I'll take every precaution. It'll be sometime before my students learn spells of the caliber I showed the Wizengamot, and they'll have to learn how to cast the Null spells for them first for safety," I turned to Miss Granger, "Do you have your Moogle on you, dear?"

Miss Granger rushed to pull her Moogle from her bag and handed it to me, eyes aglow at the chance to see me at work.

"And, Mrs. Weasley, I can promise you my new students won't be working on anything more dangerous than this for some time."

With that I set Miss Granger's Moogle on its feet. Several people watching took an alarmed step back when it stayed upright and looked up at me expectantly. I took a moment to familiarize myself with its magical signature before making a few quick gestures with my hand. The Moogle sprang into action, startling a few more people, doing a couple little flips, a few shuffled dance steps, and finally taking a bow as I stood above it, gesturing constantly.

With this little performance, I garnered a few laughs and some scattered applause from my audience. I scooped up Miss Granger's Moogle, releasing it from my control, feeling it go limp in my arms again. I handed I back to a bright eyed Miss Granger with a smile and my thanks.

"Wow! How did you do that? You can do wandless magic?" Miss Granger clearly had a flurry of questions for me, so I cut her off again.

"Now, now, we have all year for you to ask me all the questions you want, but right now you should hurry along to the train."

She looked startled for a moment, before snatching back the proffered Moogle, stuffing it into her bag, and dragging Ron and Harry by the hand towards the train. The twins shot a couple assessing glances at me and followed, along with an older, skinny Weasley with glasses.

I turned back to Mrs. Weasley with a smile of my own, "Now, I hope that I've laid your fears to rest, and I promise not to sic Bahamut on any of your children, at least not in the first week of classes," I said with a laugh.

Mrs. Weasley laughed as well, "Yes, yes, alright. But tell me, what's bah-hah-moot?"

"Oh! Bahamut is one of my Aeons, a dragon incarnation. I'm sure your husband has told you a bit about Ifrit. He's the Aeon I, um, 'startled' the Wizengamot with. Same idea, different Aeon."

"Dragon incarnation?" the remaining Weasley son asked. He had broad shoulders and such a strong layer of freckles that it was almost a tan. His hair was a little on the shaggy side, but it just added to his overall rugged appeal.

"Yes. Do you like dragons then?" I asked, curious despite myself.

His blue eyes sparkled, "You could say that. I work with them in Romania."

"Well then, the next time you're in town, we'll have to compare notes. I don't think Bahamut fall into the traditional dragon category, but maybe you could have a look and tell me exactly how weird he is. He certainly thinks he's majestic enough, purple and all," I laughed.

He laughed with me and extended a hand, "I'll have to do that. I'm Charlie, by the way. I wasn't sure you caught that in all of Hermione's babble."

I took his hand, a little spark going up my wrist, "I think it's customary to introduce yourself before a full conversation has taken place, but then, I'm new to this country. You can call me Palme."

"Nice to meet you, Palme," he grinned, and I found myself giving him a silly little grin back. I shook my head as soon as I realized what I was doing, but a quick glance around at the amused looks of the Weasley parents and Minerva showed I had been caught.

Minerva appeared to be smothering a laugh in her hand, "Well, we'd better be off if we want to find Remus and get you settled before the train leave. It was nice seeing you again, Arthur, Molly, Charlie."

I managed a smile, embarrassed, but covering it with a quick flick of my braids, "Nice to meet you all," I bowed quickly and scurried after Minerva.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Whew! Big one! Sorta… Anyways, so that crack about the twins and the Bandersnatch and the Funguar becomes exponentially funnier if you google it and get the joke, fyi. As always, reviews are appreciated and met with candy! See you next time!

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	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Minerva excused herself and Apparated abruptly on the steps of the train, only saying the Headmaster was calling. I was more freaked by the fact that I had no idea how she knew that. I shrugged and continued onto the train.

I nearly got run over by at least three First Years before I rolled my eyes and slid into a random compartment. I would find Remus when the students got a little more settled. I turned to find three Hufflepuffs staring at me. I plopped onto the seat across from them and smiled brightly, laying my staff across my lap. _This could be fun._

"Hi, this is my first year at Hogwarts. What are your names?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Ernie Macmillan."

"Hi, I'm Megan Jones. What year are you? Are you a transfer?"

_Oh, lots of fun. _

I giggled and batted my eyes a bit, "Oh, you know, they're still working on that. So what's Hogwarts like? I mean, I know it's a castle and all, but what are the teachers like? What classes are you in?"

This opened a friendly flood of information, most of which I already knew, though the parts about Severus amused me a great deal. Apparently, he was hated by most of Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and parts of Ravenclaw. I was summarily warned to keep my head down and not piss him off, though "don't think that'll stop him or anything." Any time the conversation looked to be heading towards me, I simply asked another question under the pretext of having heard rumors about ghosts, giant squids, and giants in general.

In a little while, the noise in the hall got quieter as the train began to move and then pick up speed. I considered going to find Remus, but the train ride would be a long one and I was having fun right where I was.

A witch with a cart of snacks came and went, the little Hufflepuffs grabbing a few goodies before she left. The train ride stretched on, and I decided it was time to find Remus. He had to be wondering about me by now. I stood and smiled, saying my goodbyes to the Hufflepuffs before reaching for the door. As I did, the train slammed to a halt and the lights flickered out.

My staff was already in my hand, and I was halfway out into the hallway in a battle ready position, all my instincts screaming at me.

"What's going on?" Megan cried.

"Stay in the compartment. Sit down and hush," I commanded sharply. A draft of cold air was creeping up my legs, and I could see the shadows shifting down the aisle. Other heads poked out of doors, and I issued the same sharp order until wide-eyed students popped back out of the hall.

I stepped out and closed the door, ignoring rather indignant responses from the Hufflepuffs. The shifting shadows were moving closer, and I could now make out cloaks and skeletal hands. I felt a shaft of terror lance through me, but I shook my head. It felt wrong. Not like I felt before a battle. Whatever they were, there were three of them, and they were causing it, so I pushed it aside and began to cast.

_FIRE!_ I pushed my magic in their directly, wrapping rings around their robes. They let out an unearthly shriek and drew back, hissing.

_FIRA!_ I upped the stakes a little, making sure not to allow the flames to touch anything on the train but the creatures. They didn't feel like fiends, nor unsent dead. Just dark and cold and strange. I tossed a Scan spell at them and let information roll in front of my eyes for a moment. Dark Creatures, not anything I was familiar with. They were called Dementors, and they were born like this, unlike fiends. They didn't like light, heat, or feelings of goodwill. I shuddered and decided to send them packing with a will.

"FIRAGA!" I shouted, swinging my staff with force. The three Dementors were absolutely wreathed in flames, shrieking and thrashing. They receded back down the hallway and out the door, still screaming, but their innate cold had put out the fire.

The lights flickered back on, and background noise I hadn't even missed returned to my ears. With the low murmurs of students starting back up and heads poking back out of doors, the train started to move again. The whole incident couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes, but it drove home the reason I was here: to fight and prepare these children to fight.

The doors I had just exited slid back open, and I was met with wide eyes from the three Hufflepuffs. I realized I was getting similar looks from all the students. They must have watched through the windows of the doors.

I stood up a little straighter, letting my authority as a Summoner flow off of me as I rarely allowed it to, "Return to your compartments until I give the all clear. There could be more Dementors around, and I don't want any incidents."

"Who're you?" asked a shaggy haired boy in a thick accent.

"I'm Professor Diandar. Now scram!" I barked.

A hustle of wider eyes and slammed doors ensued, and I allowed myself a smile. I was in the first car on the train, so I began walking, staff at ready back through the cars, looking to convene with Remus. I had to bark several more times at curious students along the way.

I found Remus in the very last car leaning over the Potter boy, who looked a little peaky and was nibbling some chocolate.

"What happened with you? I've already swept the train, we're clear of Dementors for the moment," I asked.

"Mr. Potter here had a bit of a close call with one of them," he looked chagrined, "I'm afraid I was asleep for most of it. I'm glad one of us was alert."

"Hardly," I smiled, "I was toying with some Hufflepuffs. They're in for a surprise when they realize I'm not an exchange student."

Remus laughed, "You really shouldn't have."

"I know. That's what made it fun," I laughed with him, "God, you should hear what these kids say about Severus. You'd think he was a Coeurl with a thorn in is paw."

"A what?" an incredulous Ron questioned, his eyebrows somewhere around his hairline.

"Don't mind Professor Diandar, Mr. Weasley. She has some very strange expressions where she's from," Remus popped in.

"Yes, but what's a Coeurl?" Miss Granger seemed intent.

"A fiend," I replied simply.

"What's a fiend?"

"Miss Granger, as I reminded you at the train station, you have all year to ask me questions. In fact, if I'm not mistaken about your age, you have several years to ask me questions."

"Yes, but…"

"Miss Granger, I only had time to do a quick sweep to make sure the Dementors had departed. I need to go back and check for more affected students."

This shut her up, and after she nodded, I turned to the young Mr. Potter. I frowned. It didn't seem dissimilar from a status effect like a poison. _Perhaps if I…_

"Esuna," I whispered as I waved my staff over his head. He blinked, shook his head, and seemed to come out of it a bit, "Before you ask, Miss Granger, you'll be learning that spell."

Miss Granger looked a little flustered. I stood, nodded to Remus, and started down the hall.

3


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

No curious heads poked out at me as I made my way back up the train. By the time I passed into the third car, the train had started to move again. I could hear the students whispering, and caught the wide eyed glances. I headed purposely for the front of the train, and steeped into the Prefect's car, recruiting the students there to help me patrol the train for the remainder of the ride.

I didn't truly relax until the train pulled to a stop at the Hogsmeade Station and students began pouring out of the cars. I stepped onto the platform and sighed, vowing to myself never to set foot in that train again. It was a tactical nightmare of enclosed, isolated spaces with little room to maneuver and no way off.

Hagrid was waving me towards a bunch of little boats, but I had no intention of climbing into another small indefensible space so soon. The carriages Remus stood next to seemed like a bad idea as well. I shook my head and stepped clear of the students before swinging my staff in the familiar arcs of Ixion's dance. Every head on the platform turned first towards me, then the brilliant glymphs lighting the night sky. Ixion burst out over the heads of some fifth years, neighing defiantly as he descended clear of the walkway. He landed, reared, pawing at the sky, and cantered smoothly in my direction. He pulled up even with the platform where I stood, his back about thigh height on me. I sank my hand into the ruff of white fur on his withers and swung my leg over him. Every eye was glued on my rather dramatic display. I really had to remember to tone it down a bit. People were going to start thinking I was a show off.

"Hey, Remus, I'll meet you at Hogwarts, okay?" I called over my shoulder as Ixion turned and began to trot off. I leaned forward until I could grip the braids hanging from his mane. It was only then that he dug into a canter again, tearing down the dark forest road towards Hogwarts, the bright lights of the station shrinking behind us. Only the sparks flickering off the Ixion's horn lit the road before us.

Before long we emerged from the wooded track onto a path running along the lake. Moonlight shimmered across the water, and with the extra light Ixion sped up again, more confident. The road drifted gradually away from the lake as we wound up towards the towers of Hogwarts. We drew up at the courtyard leading into the Great Hall about ten minutes after we left the platform behind us.

Professor Flitwick stood in the torchlight as I swung off of Ixion and stoked his nose, "Thank you, old friend. I know you didn't have to let me do that," Ixion tossed his head in reply before leaping back into his glymph. Flitwick shook his head as I passed and shooed me towards my rooms to change into my dress robes for the feast. I did as I was bid and hurried back to the Great Hall, slipping in the teacher's entrance as the students began to drift in the main doors. I slipped into my seat at the high table, brushing the skirt of my blue and silver dress robes underneath me as I sat. Silvia glared and shook a finger of admonishment at me from her spot down the table. I ducked my head, slightly abashed. Apparently news of my little scene at the platform had already reached the teacher's table. I saw various looks ranging from unconcerned to amusement around the rest of the table. I glared at Remus, clearly the informant. He smiled brightly back, eyes teasing. I rolled my eyes and turned to look out at the students filling the Great Hall.

The hall had been rearranged to accommodate the house tables again, and house banners hung above each one. Students now lined the tables, waiting for the first years to enter and the sorting to begin. The Sorting Hat sat on a stool in front of the teacher's table, looking older and dustier than I had expected.

The first years trooped in before long, Flitwick in the lead, and I caught a glimpse of Minerva and Poppy leading a rather pale Mr. Potter in the side door as the sorting progressed. The little eleven year olds scattered to their respective tables as their Hogwarts crests changed to their house symbols and the Sorting Hat called out their new house. I realized with a start that I was the only one at the table not watching the proceedings with a fond smile of remembrance. Well, myself and Severus, who would not allow his students to see such an emotional display, and was in fact sneering a bit. It caused a pang of loneliness and homesickness, and I looked down at my plate, frowning.

Finally the sorting finished and all the teachers were in their respective seats, even though Hagrid had to stand so Flitwick and Minerva could slip past, shaking the table when he knocked it with his knees. When everyone was settled, all eyes turned to Dumbledore expectantly, who stood to address the hall.

Dumbledore welcomed everyone back, and began the quick beginning of the year announcements, including that those nasty beasts, the Dementors, would be sticking around the school looking for an escaped convict. I pressed my lips tightly together at that. It seemed too much letting fiends guard your bed for me to be comfortable.

"On a lighter note, we have three new Professors added to our staff this year. Firstly, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, professor. Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid. And lastly, but certainly not least, Hogwarts is offering a new course of study known as Magecraft in Combat. Professor Palme Diandar has come all the way to Hogwarts to educate us in this unique new magic. Let's give them all a warm welcome."

A round of applause went around the room, and Remus, Hagrid and I stood, Hagrid shaking the table again. I gave them a traditional bow of the temples, praying for the blessing of Yevon on this school year as I did. The ominous felling in my stomach said we would need more than luck in the year ahead.

The feast started and drew to a close, the students filing out of the hall, the Prefects leading the first years to their new dorm rooms. Professors broke off in groups of two and three, chatting amiably, those who'd been away catching up with those who'd stayed at Hogwarts. Even Severus followed Professor Sinistra to the Astronomy Tower for their traditional beginning of the year glass of Firewhiskey. I began to feel that creeping isolation again, until Silvia pulled me after herself and Minerva. We retired to Minerva's office for a few Butterbeers, which I had grown to like the taste of, and settled around the fire until very late.

The next morning I woke to a bit of a headache and very dry mouth. The sunlight peeked between my bed curtains, and I pulled my pillow over my head, groaning. I pulled myself out of bed, and pulled on a set of my teaching robes, knowing today was the day I began teaching. I splashed some water on my face, and managed to feel a bit more human by the time I made it (late) to breakfast. Minerva shot me an amused glance and shoved the tea pot a little closer to my plate.

The Heads of House walked around with the schedules. My first class was scheduled for right after breakfast. I had little time to be nervous as I scarfed down the suggested tea and bagel and hurried to my classroom. I was scribbling on the chalkboard as quickly as I could, blowing my bangs out of my eyes, with a dash of chalk dust on my cheek when the first of my students walked in. When I first looked at my schedule, I had groaned in mock agony and glared balefully at Minerva, who'd designed my schedule so it conflicted as little as possible. I had fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins first thing Monday morning. Bad enough that the two rival houses were grouped together, it was compounded by the fact of The Weasley Twins.

Oh yes, they got capital letters.

When the last of the students sat down and the clock hit nine o'clock, I straightened, felt a million butterflies do a tap dance in my stomach, and turned to face my students.

"Good morning. My name, as you should know if you paid a bit of attention at the Welcoming Feast, is Professor Diandar. You're here for Magecraft in Combat," I tapped my wand against the first line I'd written on the chalkboard, "Because of your OWLs, this class will be extremely intensive, as I have to catch you up on two years of material. If you don't think you can make it, talk to your Head of House before the end of the month. Otherwise, get out your quills, parchment, and Moogles."

There was a good bit of scrambling after this, and I leaned back against my desk as I waited. When everyone seemed settled again, I continued.

"Now, a few things make this course unique: first, there is no accompanying text for this course. All of the written portion of your coursework will have to be referenced from your notes, so take good ones. Second, there is a very limited number of spells you'll be learning to cast. Magecraft is really about learning the basic spells and advancing to more powerful versions of the same spell. Lastly, there will be no practicing these spells on each other. Period. They're too dangerous. Furthermore, there will be no practicing without me present for the same reason. This is battle magic. It is _not_ a joke," I glared around the room seriously. As I did, I picked out The Weasley Twins for future reference, including what direction they were sitting in, just in case they were inclined towards projectiles.

"Another thing you should be aware of is that it is necessary to keep your Moogle on your person at all times for the next few weeks at least. I doesn't have to be in your hand, but it should be near you, or in your bag, or set on your nightstand, and so on. Your Moogle needs to bond to your magic so that you can use it more easily. And if your friends make fun of you for carrying around a stuffed animal, tell them it's the Magecraft equivalent of a wand," I got a few snickers from the peanut gallery for that one, so I smiled.

"Well, now that we have that ironed out, let's get started," the rustling of two dozen quills being readied greeted my ears. Maybe I could do this after all.


End file.
